Unhinged
by Ondjage
Summary: It's been a little over a year since the defeat of Millennium, and supernatural menaces seem to have gone into hiding for the most part. There's still no trace of Alucard and the future of the organization finds itself threatened from a most unlikely source. Their only chance of survival rests in the hands of Hellsing's newest trump card.


Seras sighed, something she found herself doing far too often as of late. Lying in her open coffin, she flipped disinterestedly through a tale of fiction that had long ago ceased to spark any interest her. In fact, many things seemed to be losing their charm. She assumed it was because of the general quiet that had settled over the mansion. All familiar faces were gone... dead and buried. While the majority of Wild Geese perished during the war, the few that had survived left Hellsing the moment they could, and the organization itself was in the constant process of recruiting. Luckily for Hellsing, there seemed to be no shortage of mercenaries and guns for hire, many with a desire for vengeance or hatred for vampires. Integra deemed it fit to appoint Seras as trainer of newbies, a duty that had grown old fast.

The impact crater she left in the wall from suddenly flinging the book a little more forcefully than intended would be difficult to explain, but she didn't particularly give a damn at the moment, as being cooped up in the mansion for the past year was starting to drive her a little stir crazy. She had requested to leave the compound once and Integra forbid it, on the grounds that with Alucard defeated and the organization at its weakest in decades, they could not afford to spare their last trump card. It wasn't as though Iscariot was in any position to suddenly launch the 10th Crusade, but Integra always insisted more insidious threats loomed. So, Seras had essentially been dubbed the new Alucard, a burden of such massive proportions that she wasn't entirely certain she was ready to shoulder it. Integra had reminded her that she really didn't have a choice in the matter. Was this how Master had always felt? Like a chained hound?

_"__Seras,__ you're brooding __again__." _

"Yeah," she mumbled, staring pensively at the red satin lining of her coffin. "And your voice is ruining it. Hush please."

_"You wound __this dead __mercenary, __ma __chere__." _She saw Pip gesture dramatically toward his heart in her mind, and it forced a tiny smile onto her face. _"What's bothering you this time?"_

"I need to get out of here Captain. I've had it with this place. It's getting depressing. "

While the Queen had poured vast amounts of money into the rebuilding of Hellsing headquarters, as a reward for saving the country from homicidal Nazi vampires and their psychotic little Major; Seras could still envision the bullet holes drilled into the walls, and scattered human remains littering the grounds, with an all too piercing clarity.

_"Oui. I'm inclined to agree. __Though __somehow __I doubt bosslady __Integra __would."_

"Just a couple hours. Not asking for a lot here!"

His throaty chuckle only exacerbated her frustrations. She huffed.

"She can't just lock me up in this place all day like some kind of..." Seras paused.

_"__Caged beast__?" _Pip ventured, the smirk present even in his voice. _  
_

"Just because I'm the bloody watch dog now," she continued, undeterred by his provocations, "doesn't mean I'm completely inhuman! I have needs too!"

_"__Perhaps __the__ Captain could be of assistance? __Rumor has it he's skilled at fulfilling needs.__" _The mercenary casually flicked out a light, igniting the cigarette dangling from his lips. Seras rolled her eyes at his lecherous grin, though a playful smirk tugged at her lips, fangs protruding.

"Perhaps the Captain could shove off? And where are you getting all these cigarettes?"

_"I have my __ways."_

Seras shook her head, slipping out from her coffin and toward the nearest dresser, intent on finding appropriate outdoor attire. It was dark and cold out, and while temperatures had no effect on creatures of the night such as herself, she'd rather avoid unwanted attention in public by parading around in that god awful uniform in the middle of December.

After several minutes of rummaging through multiple dresser drawers, flinging clothes about the room without cognitive thought, Seras settled on a simple pair of black slacks and a long sleeve shirt in the end. Consequences be damned! Just as she was about to get changed, the phone on her nightstand began to ring.

Only one person in the world could be calling her.

"_What p__erfect timing, __non? __The bosslady beckons.__"_

Seras groaned.

* * *

Integra had indeed summoned her, though, what she could possibly want at this hour of the night still baffled the vampire. She'd been unusually cryptic over the phone. When Seras reached Integra's office, she paused.

A devious grin seized her face, eyes sparkling mischievously as she proceeded to phase through the doors. Sure enough, Integra was seated behind her desk, chair facing the window that overlooked the courtyard below, an unlit cigar rolling between her forefingers. _Perfect. _The element of surprise was hers! She would catch her completely off guard and...

"No longer using doors?"

Seras let out a squeak of sorts, stiffening in surprise at the sound of Integra's sharp, commanding voice cutting through the silence.

"_A-ah!_ Well, you see, I was trying to scare you, sir Integra... Guess I wasn't as sneaky as I thought."

Integra spun around in her seat, resting a tired blue eye on Seras. A faint hint of amusement was evident on her face, quirking the corners of Integra's mouth as she took to lighting her cigar and inhaling deeply. Seras half wondered if she'd actually finish this one without breaking it in half.

"I've endured countless years of Alucard and his random acts of ennui. You're going to have to do much better than that, Seras."

The blonde vampire scratched the back of her neck, exhaling a nervous laugh.

"Now, if you're quite finished with the antics, we shall proceed. I've arranged for a helicopter to transport you and a squad of three to a town called Kent, located near the outskirts of London. We've received a number of anonymous tips indicating unusual activity in the area." She exhaled a cloud of smoke, flicking an ash, looking up from the documents scattered about her desk to meet Seras' curious gaze. "Activity of the supernatural variety."

"So you're sending me on a recon mission?" Seras inquired. This certainly wasn't the type of escape she had been seeking, but something was better than nothing, and a dark part of her secretly hungered for battle anyways. She hadn't been on a mission in what seemed like eons.

"Correct. Our recently acquired Intel indicates that disturbances have been reported at an abandoned paper making facility in the region. You're to head out immediately. The rest of the squad has already been debriefed. You will act as their Captain this evening."

"Sir, if I may...," Seras started, timidly, and when Integra gave her the go ahead with a nod, she continued, "...why the change of heart?" Integra cocked a brow. "I mean, I thought you needed me to help protect the mansion?"

"In a sense, you'll be doing just that." Integra leaned forward in her chair. "This is the first news of potential vampire activity we've received since the _bio-terrorism_ incident. If a threat is stirring, I want us to be the ones snuffing it out first. It could be nothing, but I'd rather not take any chances."

"Yes sir." Seras readied to leave.

"Oh and Seras," Integra added, threading her fingers, voice taking a grave tone, "I have it on good authority that Iscariot might be poking around. I'm not certain as to why yet. Just try to avoid engaging unless _absolutely_ necessary. The last thing we need is another war on our hands."

"Understood."

* * *

Seras would have much rather preferred to fly to the location herself, if only to escape the oppressive tension of the helicopter. She'd have made it there in record time most certainly, though she supposed that probably wasn't the best impression to make on her newly appointed squad. She recognized some of them, as she had been training recruits over the past few months, but the stoic man with jagged scars zigzagging across his nose stood out to her as the freshest face among them. His name was Abram.

Then there was a hot tempered red headed woman who went by Sam, a seemingly perpetual scowl fixed on her pale face ninety percent of the time Seras attempted to interact with her. While most of the humans currently signed up with Hellsing either greatly feared or respected her, Sam held nothing but contempt for Seras, and did little to hide the fact. Tight lipped, and ever suspicious, the woman's body seemed tense at all times. Lastly there was Jon, who sat at the far end of the aircraft, fidgeting with the stock of his sniper rifle. Out of the lot, he was the easiest to talk to, in Seras' opinion. At least he acted friendly towards her, which was more than she could say for most; though the friendliness was likely only because he enjoyed leering at her tits. All in all, social skills aside, Integra had praised them as a capable group of soldiers.

Jon looked up from his ministrations, shooting Seras, who happened to be seated next to him, a sly smile as he swept his gaze over the two MG-42 machine guns she possessed.

"A little overkill, don't ya think?" Seras deduced from his accent that was he undoubtedly American.

"There's no such thing," Seras replied, grinning toothily. "Anyway, you should see the Harkonnen. _That's_ overkill."

"I've heard all kinds of rumors... also heard it's been a while since you've seen any action. Nervous?"

"You should be more concerned about yourself." Seras averted her gaze. Inwardly, her entire body trembled in anticipation. She tried to shake the feeling, but it was as useless as trying to control the tides. There was no escaping the fact that death and bloodshed excited the beast she managed to, for the most part anyway, keep reigned in. "This is only your second mission."

"And my first with one of the saviors of London, to which I must say is an honor." He tipped an imaginary hat in her direction, winking one hazel eye.

A snort directly across from them lifted their heads in unison. Sam's arms were folded tight against her chest, shoulders bunched.

"An honor?" She scoffed. "Please. Lay off with the obnoxious flirting will you? It's nauseating."

Jon, though daunted by her blunt nature, continued in stride.

"Jealous sweetheart?"

Her face flushed as she shot a baleful glare at the rifleman. "In your fucking dreams, creep! And don't ever call me sweetheart again or I'll castrate you myself!"

Jon blew her a kiss in response that only succeeded in enraging the volatile woman further. Seras smirked, thought it faded when she looked over at Abram, who sat quietly in his seat loading blessed bullets into an older styled revolver. She narrowed her eyes. There was something unusual about the guy Seras couldn't quite place, and it wasn't just his total disregard for everyone around him and look of constant disgruntlement.

"Captain, we're approaching the landing zone." The pilot's announcement forced Seras to stave off suspicions for the time being. She'd just have to keep an eye on him during the mission. Unbuckling her seat belt, she strode toward the helicopter door, gazing out at the vast stretch of moonlit countryside below them. Several hundred yards away sat the abandoned building Integra had mentioned. From a distance all appeared tranquil, and the near dilapidated structure deserted, but Seras knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

"Everyone be ready. We'll be touching down soon."

* * *

Apart from the wind blowing eerily through the trees nearby, an ominous silence seemed to hold the terrain hostage. The legions of stars blanketing the sky were out shined by the nearly full moon, illuminating four figures armed to the teeth standing before the desolate building.

"It's really quiet," Sam muttered warily, scanning through the building's shattered windows for signs of life.

"I'll go in first. Abram, I need you covering my six." Seras regarded Jon and Sam. "I'd like you two to stand watch outside these doors until I give the clear. Got it?"

"Understood sir," Jon replied. Sam nodded somewhat grudgingly and Seras turned in time to catch Abram's stony gaze.

"After you, Captain." The rumbling, emotionless baritone startled her. It was probably the first few words that had come out of his mouth since she had met him.

"Er... right Let's do this then." With a shake of her head, she pressed for the set of doors, clutching her guns a little tighter as she strode up the steps. The hinges were barely holding the doors to the frame. This place had likely been put out of commission long ago, or perhaps it was just another victim of the the war; not that it seemed to be of any particular importance. Integra said it had been nothing more than a paper making facility, which doesn't exactly scream bomb into oblivion. Seras did find it a little odd that the building was so isolated and far from town though.

With a timid creak Seras pushed the door open, poking her head inside. The absolute darkness proved no problem for her. Abram brought the flashlight on the end of his M16 to life and followed in step with Seras, both their heads scanning the surrounding area for potential threats. All Seras saw were heaps of discarded papers and books, many charred beyond recognition. They pushed further into the dark abyss, stepping over fallen pieces of rubble, and furniture melted into the floor tiles, before at last reaching a hallway that led to an open stairwell.

_Something's not right here... Everything's too quiet. _As they cautiously made their way down the hall, Seras wondered if Abrams was gripped with the same sense of unease plaguing her. _Just what kind of 'disturbance' are we __supposed to be __on the lookout__ for anyway?_

There hadn't been much vampire activity at all after the war, and understandably so. A growing awareness of their existence had forced most of them underground. Rogue organizations had been popping up like wildfires across the country all the time, some more fanatical than others, hellbent on eradicating any and all supernatural threats to humanity.

The two arrived at the stairs and pressed on, the baleful moon outside seeping through cracks along the ceiling and guiding their path upwards. They were met with more destroyed desks, computers and office furniture at the top of the stairwell. No sign of vampires, ghouls or any sort of freak had Seras on edge.

After a great deal of exploring from room to room, and coming up with nothing, Seras had begun to grow frustrated. Abram remaining creepily silent throughout the ordeal did little to ease her frayed nerves. She had managed to sneak several glances at him through the corners of her vision, and each time his face was an impassive mask. The sudden scuffle of footsteps belonging to neither her nor Abram jarred Seras from her thoughts.

"Did you hear that?"

"No."

She huffed, thoroughly irritated, convinced she'd heard something. Her gaze scanned the perimeter before she tensed, breath catching in her throat at the sound of a revolver clicking behind her.

_A trap!?_

Her suspicions were finally confirmed when she felt blessed bullets digging deep into her skull. She staggered forward, head and ears ringing, wincing as she regained herself and whirled around to kill the traitor, only to discover he had vanished. A gruff voice rang out from somewhere and bullets were suddenly flying at Seras from every direction imaginable. Her shadow arm quickly formed into a barrier as she dashed head long into oncoming artillery fire, weaving through broken stone columns and upturned tables at incredible speed. She spotted a number of targets cowering behind a wall to her right and charged, only to grind to a halt upon reaching them, eyes widening.

"Humans?" She gaped incredulously. _Why?_

"S-shit!" A masked one nearest to her stammered, reeling back as he hefted his assault rifle. "Shoot it!"

The humans did not share the same reservations, evidently, as they unloaded every last round into Seras; and while her writhing shadow arm protected her from a majority of damage, a stray bullet managed to graze her every now and then, and along with them came the searing pain of blessed silver. These humans were no amateurs.

_ 'They came here to try and kill us. It no longer matters what they are. Now they must die. They'll be slaughtered, corpses, left to rot in their graves like filth.'_

The words of her Master haunted Seras enough for her to abandon her guns, propel forward and snatch the nearest man up in her right hand, lifting him into the air by the throat. Wisps of shadow licked at his face as she leaned in, unfazed by the roar of gunfire and startled shouts breaking out all around her, and traced her eyes across the exposed portion of his neck. The man trembled in her clutches, like a whimpering pup, exuding fear and reeking of piss. It made her pause for a second time, humanity conflicting with her vampire instinct.

_ 'It no longer matters what they are. Now they must die.'_

His indignant cries were cut short and replaced by the sounds of blood gurgling in his throat as she sank hungry fangs into an exposed jugular, finally letting the blood lust completely consume her, eyes glazing over as the vampire took control_._ She tore into his throat and drank her fill, his body giving one final, desperate shudder before going limp in her jaws.

"Fuck!" Another soldier cried out, frantically scouring his pockets for ammunition. "Retreat and regroup! We need to-" A horrified gasp escaped his lips as Seras suddenly turned her attention on him, eyes blazing as she vaulted, driving her fist through his stomach like one would a knife through butter, showering the battlefield in an explosion of gore. Jon's confused voice crackled over her earpiece, but she was too enraptured in violence to register him properly, as she savagely cut down human after human with a certain predatory grace.

* * *

"Dammit! Still no answer. We need to get in there!" Jon was headed up the steps, the sounds of battle drawing him to the doors, when Sam yanked him back.

"Chill out! They're probably fine. She's a vampire, remember? Pretty sure she can handle herself."

"Are you serious?" His face screwed up. "The action's in there!"

"And our orders are to stay out here. Fucking deal with it Jon, or go in by yourself and get killed. I really don't give a damn what you do." She rolled her shoulders nonchalantly and stepped back, releasing her hold on his wrist. "Play hero all you want, but count me out. There's no way in hell I'm dying for that bloodsucking bitch."

"That _bloodsucking bitch_ is our commanding officer!"

"Like I said," Sam started with a scowl, "I don't give a-" She froze mid sentence though, gaze suddenly fixated on the horizon. Following her line of sight, Jon spotted a lone figure stalking toward them. He cocked his head, squinting his eyes.

"Is that a... priest?"


End file.
